It’s Like Here Only Better by Robin Landry is a telling of real events of a lost son whose inspiring messages from the afterlife continue to give his family and friends hope and comfort about his unexpected and devastating fate.
Landry describes how after her son Tim’s premature passing in a tragic traffic accident, he returned to his loved ones in their dreams in time to deliver news of his time on ‘the other side’, and how he continues to watch over those left behind, speaking of other loved ones, and passing advice down to his living associates.
Otherwise unexplainable events are explained through the presence of Tim, and Landry states that, unequivocally, those touched by her son are left doubtless about his whereabouts, his safety, and his wisdom, and backed with details such as a gentle aging shared across visions and his ability to speak of information only Tim could know. Facing the worst fear and the greatest challenge possible in parenthood, author Robin Landry writes a message of hope and an anchor of faith for both those who knew Tim and for those who, unfortunately, may have experienced in the same pain and confusion that follows loss.
Evocative from start to finish, the book is the product of a great labor of love and a tribute to Tim Landry, both in life and honoring his deeds on the other side. It is full of pride and a sense of joy underneath the indisputable sorrow of the situation, written from that particular pain that sparks thought and memory as painful as they may be. Her recollections of her son both before and after the accident seem to be a great force for positivity in her life, and it is from here the author makes observations and theories: she posits on the relationship of the mind and the soul, the dream and inner humanity, and the interaction between the true self and the living self. These ideas range from intriguing ruminations to enthralling, stimulating, but dubitable, including the musing that depression is an acquaintance with the deep soul through sleep. Events described in the book contain some likely embellishment and the skimming of a few details, as would be expected, but this does nothing to dull the message of the overall work: that love is a force more powerful than we can imagine.
Above all the book is moving and will no doubt be most evocative and therefore comforting to those who have experienced an unexpected loss like Landry. It is a brave and well-collected, well-described book of tangible and bright emotion that cuts through the fog of depression surrounding the subject. For anyone looking for light at the end of the tunnel, either close to Landry’s circumstances or just looking for an uplifting read, It’s Like Here Only Better is rather sharply edited and presents itself with beautiful optimism both visually in its cover and palpably in its words, a personal journey shared with the hopes of fulfilling the expectations of their kind son.